


Jealousy

by Sancia



Category: Hellsing
Genre: Angst, Consensual Violence, Drama, F/M, Romance, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 14:14:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1229479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sancia/pseuds/Sancia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jealousy

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All the characters in this fic belong to Kouta Hirano :-)

I can see his red-cloaked figure approaching, He is walking towards the team carrying a bundle in his arms and with this; I got out of my car and stood to wait, watching at his advancing form.  
It was only then when he was already some few meters away from where I stood that I saw and realized that he was not carrying something, rather he was carrying someone.  
A civilian survivor from the mission; it was the first plausible explanation that registered in my mind. Yet within a second of saying this to myself, I knew in an instant that such is not the case. For my instincts know better-that small, oftentimes snide yet honest voice telling me at times such as this that something’s just not right.  
Oh yes, pathetic as it may sound… call it woman’s intuition.  
And if I were one weak or foolish woman I would have been happy to satisfy myself with said plausible explanation. I could have accepted it even for a just a second just so I can gain momentum and brace myself from understanding the only other reason behind the scene I am witnessing.  
I was hurt, injured in such a way that no dagger or bullet can accomplish. It took all those years of practice in using that mask of casual indifference which I am so expert in putting up in situations such as that to disguise how I felt. It saved me from giving myself away.  
It was then when he was already few paces away from my spot that I was able to make out a head of strawberry blonde hair caked with dirt, pale young face streaked with mud and blood, soft features; a girl.  
A pretty young one at that.  
He stood a couple of feet from where I was, the girl in his arms when I noticed the reddish colour in her eyes, a dead give-away of what she’s become.  
He carried her gently, almost lovingly in a way a parent may carry a swaddled infant.  
She is his first fledgling since that fateful episode with that woman from almost a century ago and I can’t help but wonder if she will fill in the role of his bride. As he did turn those other virgin young women for that purpose hundreds of years ago-someone whom he could share his coffin with on cold, long nights.  
“I would ask for this girl to be employed within the organization.” Alucard said to me in a steady voice.  
Upon hearing that, I wanted nothing more than to slap his face hard.  
The statement was more of a declaration than a request. It is the consequence of him turning other humans while still under his bond of servitude; Alucard’s fledgling is to a great extent, also my servant. A creature that I can control and use in a great degree.  
Though this fact didn’t give me any comfort at all.  
I met his red eyes and held his gaze directly and unflinchingly. I let a few seconds of pregnant silence pass, feeling the gazes of some of the soldiers. Seconds- to allow them to guess on how I am going to take this stunt he’s pulled.  
I let the silence weigh on us all.  
I stared at him, my face expressionless. You wait vampire, I don’t like an audience but I’ll make time for you later. I let this thought reach him, before finally answering him.  
Through his deadpan face-I am very sure he got my message.  
“Very well then, see to it that she is trained well- I don’t want her slowing any of us down.” I said in a voice devoid of intonation.  
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It took a couple of hours of almost over speedy driving from Cheddar village to Hellsing HQ in London.  
I barked orders at the chauffer to get us to my mansion as fast as possible under the threat of axing him from his job if he couldn’t get me there within three hours.  
I simmered in anger for the entire two hours.  
How dare he, how dare he? I repeatedly asked these questions to me as I fiercely chain smoked inside the car, in a futile attempt to calm myself. I drew deeply at my cigar to make sure I suck as much of its nicotine, holding the cancerous breath inside my lungs for a couple of seconds before releasing it in puffs of violet-coloured smoke. I let it come out in a steam like stream from my lips, other times from my nostrils; it later curled around my field of vision like some sort of a phantasm.  
Of course I always knew that sooner or later Alucard will take a fledging and that it is only a question of time. I hate to admit that I am not prepared for it to happen, emotionally speaking.  
And I only have myself to blame; I should not have grown attached to him, he is afterall just a servant -and a vampire to add.  
I would never admit it to anybody other than myself but the truth is-I do rely on him a lot. Though I am director and I run the organization by my own hand; commanding a private army of well-trained soldiers, Alucard is the one who’s most efficient and effective in handling the dirty work.  
The tart might distract him in more ways than one; ways which I do not want to think about.  
The girl might draw his attention away from me.  
Complications and entanglements, I already have a lot in my plate as of late.  
I felt the beginnings of a nasty headache starting to creep at my temples. I looked at my gold Cartier wristwatch; half-past nine. What I wouldn’t give in this world just to have a nice hot bath and crawl to bed straight after immediately upon arriving in my mansion, but Walter will no doubt be there waiting. He would be there to push me to my dinner and subtly press on some details about the mission. Though he already must’ve seen what Alucard had done since my vampire and his fledgling have used the chopper on their way back to HQ.  
And I preferred to travel by car to buy some time to collect myself.  
Shit.  
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I stared at the sumptuous spread before me. Walter personally plans the menu in the household. I am seated by the far end of the long mahogany dinner table with seats for twelve people. I am seated at the place meant to be occupied by the party host or the head of the family.  
I am head of Hellsing- The only living Hellsing to be precise.  
I remember that time when I was much younger and my father just died; I was left to take my meals in this table by myself.  
At those times back then, I can barely eat.  
The table which is meant to be used for meals by an entire family seem to mockingly loom over me, its sole occupant. I knew very well that I looked every inch like the archetypal poor little rich girl; one of those characters in mushy soap-operas often watched by the maids.  
Sad and very much alone, it’s pathetic.  
But I am not some pathetic character at a drama and the loneliness I felt then was real and overwhelming it made me lose my appetite. But because Walter always stood at the corner waiting for me to order him to carve some roast or slice a part from a whole braised chicken, I am Ieft with no choice but to put on a show of eating some lest I worry him.  
Even though at most times it takes a sheer herculean effort on my part to force the food down my gullet-delicious they may be.  
If I were to be asked about meals, I’m fine with simple ones. Pasta is okay so as the occasional steak or lamb roast and a pudding. I’m not particularly fond of eating but I eat just enough; not too much nor too little. I do my best to give justice to Walter’s fancy meal planning and the cook’s hard work by sampling each dish in the twice daily five-course meals they serve. I told myself a few times before to at least enjoy it more, knowing the fact that food takes a lion share in the organization’s expenses .I know too well that the household staff has no complains when I don’t eat enough because that just means more fare for them and despite the fact that I have nothing against it; I just can’t help but think of the starving children in Africa and in the remote parts of Asia.  
Such rich foods. I wonder why I didn’t gain weight from all of it. I’ve always been on the slim side. All of My suits are tailored to fit my measurements; I weigh a hundred and twenty pounds at five feet seven inches, I’ve been this way since I was sixteen. I surmise that the regular sparring sessions and the thrice a week hourly runs-which Dr. Trevelyan advised me to take two years ago to reduce PMS must have kept me this way.  
In my plate are three dainty slices of pork doused in some kind of brownish sauce. I put my fork to use and lifted a sliver of meat to my lips, chewing the tender and savoury cut; tasting the slightly spicy and sweet sauce. In another time I definitely could have had a lot of these, but right now, I could’ve care less. It could have been the ambrosia of gods for all I care.  
My struggle in going through the meal devoid of any appetite must have been obvious for Walter didn’t prod or urge me to carry on with my self-imposed force-feeding. .  
He let me off the hook this time for he knows what is bothering me.  
Minutes ago, while I was on my way in the west wing of the mansion in order to lock my berretta at the gun display cabinet in my office, I heard him talking in the alcove near the corridor intersecting the east wing. He was telling the gardener, one of the old caretakers of the residence to stay out anywhere near the dungeons and to spread the word to as much of the household staff as he could. I peeked out from behind the wall adjacent to where they are and I saw Walter holding a hanger, clipped on it is a small, feminized and very skimpy version of military uniform with the Hellsing patch on its breast pocket, the skirt looking more of tiny tube top; undoubtedly for the girl.  
“Madam, would you rather have something else for dinner, other than from what is served on the table, how about some pea soup” He mildly asked.  
I turned my gaze at him, I looked at his lined and familiar face; He dislikes it very much if I don’t eat. Though he is very careful not to show it, I can tell his displeasure from the discreet sigh he often gives and the slight frowning between his wrinkled brows at times like this. I can’t help but feel tenderness towards the old man. Oh Walter, my old and loyal Walter. Though this thought I keep in my most private thoughts.  
“I would very much appreciate a pea soup for the moment Walter”  
“Pea soup then Madam, Would you prefer to take your meal in your private apartments? “  
“Yes Walter, in my room. And I’ll be going to bed early; I’ll see to the girl and deal with Alucard at tomorrow’s early evening.  
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I threw myself in the bed, hearing the mattress give a satisfactory whoosh from my weight; the terry bathrobe I am wearing twisted awkwardly out of place, exposing wide expanses of bare skin on my chest and legs. I couldn’t care less, as far as I’m concerned, I am in my room and I can pose myself in however way I like. I indulged in a long warm soak, nearly falling asleep in the tub- my head nodded so low I accidentally inhaled some water, effectively jolting me back to alertness.  
Turning my head to the where the centre table of the sala set is, on it I saw a silver tureen and spoon a soup bowl and a banana neatly laid out.  
Oh yeah, I almost forgot…the pea soup.  
I’m in no mood to eat and I don’t have the will and energy at the moment to force feed myself.  
I was drowsily staring at the empty space before the table when all of a sudden, my vision went blurred. Brushing it off as the effect of fatigue, and of soaking for almost an hour in very warm water with an empty stomach; I ignored it. It took me a minute to realize that it was his shadows that I am seeing.  
Some nerve he’s got to show me his pale face after what he’s done just a few hours ago.  
Closing my eyes and pointedly ignoring the shadows that precede his appearance, I exhaled a deep sigh. There is this insistent throbbing behind my eyes and between my brows. Damn headache, and all I thought that I already nipped it at the bud by that long and hot soak. It disappeared for a while during the bath though; however it only proved to be just a strategic retreat, waiting for its chance of onslaught at a time where I’m supposed to be relaxing.  
Deciding that I need an aspirin I stood up and went to the table where the now cold tureen of soup lay; no doubt placed by Walter a while ago. I made up my mind to consume it nonetheless. He is now sprawled in the sofa, lying on his side, his head propped up by an arm. I can feel his eyes watching me as I unceremoniously lifted the thermo like tureen to my lips and gulped a mouthful of pea-soup. I nearly spat it out, surprised that it was still hot yet not scaldingly so.  
I didn’t bother to use the bowl and spoon that was on the table. All I care for is to put something on my empty stomach so that I can take medicine. I took the soup absent-mindedly not bothering to taste it, making measured swallows every after a few seconds; though I find the sensation of the thick and warm fluid sliding down my throat rather pleasant. Picking up the banana from the table I deftly peeled its skin and wolfed it down with a few, large bites; finishing it within a minute.  
I looked at Alucard, he has that grin in his face again, I’ve grown used to that irritating expression of his; but this time, I feel this overwhelming urge to wipe that stupid smirk off his face with a punch. I set the tureen on the table after draining off its contents.  
“You should eat properly, Mistress”  
Paying no attention to him, his comment on my erratic eating and to the way he addressed me; I turned away from the sala set as well as from him and headed towards the bathroom where the medicine cabinet is.  
He recently started calling me mistress in private; a double entendre address. And at all those times he called me that, I said nothing before to correct him. I will not start correcting him now.  
I entered the bathroom, closing the door behind me; willing to put some sort of a barrier between us-even though I am very well aware of his fondness in phasing through walls in places where his presence is least welcomed.  
Popping a couple of aspirins in my mouth, I leaned into the faucet of the lavatory and drank. Swallowing the medicine with a few gulps of water; washing down the banana and the pills I took.  
I feel full as if I’ve eaten a full course meal instead of just the pea-soup and banana I actually had.  
It must’ve been from all the fluids I drank.  
Upon returning to my room, I see him still sprawled where I left him, the smug smirk still in place.  
I climbed to bed and lay down in the centre. I turned to my side facing away from him.  
“Get out; I’ll talk to you tomorrow”. I said in a barely audible whisper, knowing he can clearly hear it nonetheless. Sighing, I tightly squeezed my eyes shut… feeling the start of the headache’s full-blown assault.  
“It has been a very long day for you Mistress isn’t it?”  
“Yes and I want to put the things that happened today behind me for now, so please leave; I want to end this day as soon as possible. “  
“You are upset, and it has a lot to do with the police girl.”  
“Don’t flatter yourself too much freak, that is but one among many reasons”  
It is true. I’ve been frightfully busy as of late ironing diplomatic relationships with other government agencies; a chore that is extremely tasking to my rather short patience. The convention of twelve is another thing; a meeting was actually called to order last week. The sole agenda of that meeting was the issue of my marriage prospects. Those damn prunes want me to marry at the soonest possible time; the chauvinistic pigs want to get rid of me from the table, and they expect me to relinquish my position as director to the man who I’m going to marry- I could see my father turn in his grave. Also, the army needed a couple of new helicopters and I am to request for a meeting to renegotiation our quarterly stipend and haggle for another raise. On top of that, today is the third Wednesday of the month. I count the days and if my charting is accurate, by Thursday next week I’m going to have my period.  
And now this pesky PMS with its attention-seeking headaches and mood swings.  
“It is at these days of the month that you are at your loveliest Mistress” He said smoothly, I felt him sit by my feet and the edge of my bed.  
I understand very well what he is implying with those words. The bastard is familiar with my cycle. In any other time I could have felt indignant and showed him how I felt, but not this time…my headache is just getting worse.  
“In the olden days, it is at these days in a woman’s month that their husbands often come to visit them for assignations.” He continued, trailing his fingers in my ankles. His hand stopped at the spot behind my right knee.  
I am well aware of how disarranged my bathrobe is, bunched and twisted here and there; shamelessly exposing skin at places that should be covered. I don’t give a shit though; he’s seen it all anyway. I know why he came here, it is to explain himself about the stunt he’s pulled; to smooth my ruffled feathers and offer explanation for what he did after a few unsubtle innuendos and invitations. The other one is to seduce me, of course.  
He could wish upon all the comets and shooting stars from the moonlit sky but that night a couple of years ago will never happen again.  
I want him to go away, at this very moment.  
I didn’t bother to conceal my thoughts, I want him to read my mind like an open book and get the fact of my wanting nothing more, than for him to get lost into that thick skull of his.  
“Back then, women are valued mainly for their youth and beauty…though bloodline is also important, at least for the nobility” He continued without missing a beat.  
“My mistress, my gold and honey mistress. You see, the nature of those assignations is of the sort when a man wants to beget a child from his wife or woman.”  
That’s it, I won’t have any of this stupid banter, I won’t have any of his baiting, not now.  
Pulling myself up, I climbed out from the bed and stood, I winced at the jarring pain in my temples.  
“I very much appreciate your lecture about the psychology of attraction and biology. You need not worry, I am well informed about ovulation, and I’m a woman after all.” I replied in the most sarcastic tone I could manage glaring daggers at him.  
“I don’t want to see you right now, please leave me alone.” I turned around and walked towards the door; opening it for him. I want him to leave my room like a normal human being.  
“I will take my leave Master as you wish but not before you allow me to give you a proper goodnight” He said in a serious voice.  
“There’s nothing good about this night, now leave” I replied curtly.  
“I just want to let you know that I will take full responsibility for the police girl….” He said softly.  
“Stop right there, I don’t want to hear any of this now.” I said cutting him off, unintentionally raising my voice. My head feels as if it is being split into two with an axe.  
“Here I am having the decency to ask you to leave my room…my room in my own house whereas you are a little more than a slave here and you are proving to be so unruly.”  
“You are unwell” He advanced towards me and drew me in his arms.  
The embrace was uncalled for, making me stiffen in his touch.  
“Beat it Alucard, before I drive you away like a dog”.  
“I will see to it that she will not cause you any trouble”.  
I am the one who’s in his embrace and he is still talking about that little strumpet.  
I saw red and something in me snapped.  
I want to think of it as something that is caused by the terrible pounding ache in my head. I want to blame it on his misplaced and unsolicited concern and his stubborn insistence to comfort me even if I want none of it.  
I know it has something to do with those stifling tea parties with those pompous bureaucrats. Tete-a-tetes, where I am required to act every bit the role of a well-mannered aristocrat and smile at their stupid small talk when in fact I want nothing more than to throttle them.  
I also know that those nonsensical marriage arrangements that they keep pressing on me is part of it. Those knights acting so much like old women, poorly yet eagerly playing the role of match-makers; showing me the pictures of men they recommend me to marry.  
I find the whole thing pitiful and ridiculous.  
But his insistence in bringing up the matter about that child-woman was the last straw.  
He’s pushed me too far with that.  
I slapped his face hard, backhanding his other cheek with my knuckles; my hand giving off the sound of a satisfying smack upon its contact with his face.  
This launched my full blaze attack.  
Showering him with blows at every possible place that my hands can land and get into-I physically assaulted him, hurling insults at him all the while. I swore at him, cursed him with words and called him names that will put an African-American rapper to shame. My nails scratched at his face, surprisingly drawing blood. I tore at his hair, pulling a clump of black strands in the process, and beat at his chest so hard it hurt my fists so bad. I threw punches at him, with all my might; leaving me with no doubt as to whether or not my fists will be blackened by bruises tomorrow. I sweated, and my breathing grew laboured, as I squeezed his throat brutally; trying to choke out whatever life is left in him.  
I attacked her like a madwoman, all the while feeling no satisfaction whatsoever.  
The oversized bathrobe that was loosely wrapped around my body fell from my shoulders from all the movement, baring my torso; uncovering my breasts which quivered from my actions.  
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.  
If I do this in any other situation and on any other person, I’ll definitely face a lawsuit for charges of battery, violence and all sorts of abuse.  
But such is not the case. And I can lash out and wallow in the luxury of pure rage for all I want.  
He is mine to do as I wish.  
Anyway, it will cause him no harm at all.  
He is rooted at the spot like a statue, not budging an inch; taking all of my attacks it unflinchingly.  
This went on until my anger was finally spent. Not bothering to set my robe to rights or cover my partial state of nudity, I languidly walked towards my bed and sat at its foot. I caught sight of my reflection in the full-length mirror across where I am sitting; I look raped. The bathrobe tie was loose around my waist, causing the thing to part widely at my thighs; obscenely exposing my legs. It almost revealed my sex; I can see those little flaxen hairs already peeking out.  
“Are you done?” he asked, he asked in a voice so gentle I felt my heart clench upon hearing it.  
I feel miserable, the headache now in its full force. But tired, mercifully tired. I want nothing more in this world than to crawl in my bed and sleep.  
I must’ve look how I feel because my vampire carried me off from the edge of the bed where I was perched and laid me down at the centre of the bed. I said nothing, allowing him to have his way and tuck me to bed.  
“Let me bid you a proper good night master, then I’ll quietly leave; you have my word for it.” He said gently.  
“Your word is not to be trusted, fiend”. I replied tonelessly.  
“I was once a gentleman”  
I didn’t say anything to that in reply  
He kissed away the sweat that beaded in my forehead, licking the drops that trailed into my throat which moistened my neck; I shrank away from him a little, reluctant to bare my throat to him. His mouth briefly lingered at the area an inch below my right ear where a pulse throbbed, before moving on. Trailing his tongue lower in a snail’s pace, he sucked at the spot between my breasts; I felt him fiercely breath in my scent. He kissed his way down to my stomach lightly dipping his tongue to my navel.  
My breath hitched as I feel the first stirrings of arousal pool down at my lower belly, this has got to stop.  
His face is now buried on the mound between my legs. He pressed a kiss in that area, lightly darting his tongue out giving a quick swipe at the lips; a feather-like touch, a tease of a flick.  
I tugged at his hair to pull his head and tear his lips from my labia. “Please don’t do this” I said steadily, meeting his eyes.  
“I can’t leave you like this, Integra; I won’t do anything else but please let me give you a rub, we both know you need it”  
I am too tired to resist for he is so firm about it. And I don’t want to waste any more energy for another row so I acquiesced. I let him slid the bathrobe off my body. I now lay totally nude in the sheets. He stood from the bed and walked towards the dresser table picking up the bottle of lavender oil which I so love to anoint myself with before I go to bed at these chill autumn nights; I find its scent so soothing to my senses.  
He gently turned me on my stomach; I shifted a little, feeling my breasts being squished a little from supporting my weight; wincing a little at the slight sting on my nipples.  
I felt his oil-slicked hands on my back, sliding slowly and sensually like the caress of a lover, stroking me lightly. He carried on this way for a few moments before gradually and subtly applying pressure. I feel myself go soft under his touch. I am absently reminded of that line by that blonde bombshell of an actress from the sixties who’s called Marilyn something: Oh my I am putty in your hands. He focused his attentions in my shoulder blades where tension had bunched the muscles into kinks. He kneaded it away so well I feel like turning into goo under his hands.  
The bitch of a headache is still torturing me but my limbs are now pleasantly heavy and I feel groggy. Sleep will come over soon. The sleep which I desperately need and which I will warmly welcome with open arms; Some eight hours in dreamland will do me good. I felt him pull a blanket over my body.  
“Are you sure you want me to leave you alone Master?” He murmured in my ear. I cracking an eye open, I see him lying on his side beside me, his head propped up by an arm.  
“Yes please do leave, I don’t have the energy for another row, more so to indulge you of your fantasies.” I said in a matter of fact voice.  
“It’s been almost three years since that night-that night where you let yourself be held in my arms as a man.” He said in a hushed and husky low tone, the voice of a lover.  
“That will never happen again Alucard.” I replied meeting his gaze.  
“Summon me, whenever that time comes that you are in need to be held once again” He whispered in the most caressing of whispers, trailing a finger in my cheek.  
“Out” I said flatly.  
He and I have things to settle, I am not some stupid woman who he could sway with sweet nothings and romancing.  
“Anyway, you are not yet off the hook you damn vampire, but things can wait until tomorrow evening I need you to just bugger off for now.” I said turning my back on him, facing him away-dismissing him.  
“I wish you a good night master, rest well.” –With that he left, phasing out from the wall.  
Within a few minutes after he left, I finally fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.  
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She was nineteen when she died.  
She has big, dark blue eyes, set wide apart in a face that hasn’t yet lost its childish roundness. Her bob of strawberry blonde hair emphasized her youthfulness. Her voice which is girlish and pleasantly high reminds me of a church bell’s peal.  
I can tell that her skin had always been fair and smooth yet Alucard’s blood made it preternaturally perfect, making her look as if she was lit from within.  
It’s as if she was ball-jointed doll; those delicate and lovely dolls from Asia given to me by my father when I was still a little girl. Her small upturned nose and small, pinkish cupid’s bow lips gave her the innocent look of a cherub.  
Not more than five feet three inches in height, slim and voluptuous at the same time.  
She is not pretty for she is beautiful, no wonder he turned her.  
Alucard and Walter presented her to me in my office, dressed in that scandalously skimpy military uniform. The clothes may be lacking in fabric but it definitely suited her, it fitted her like a glove; hugging the curves of her body fetchingly.  
I took my time in studying the police girl; eyeing her up and down, branding her image in my mind. The girl was obviously nervous, fidgeting here and there; clasping her hands in front of her just to unclasp them and grasp them again behind her, shifting her weight from one leg to another.  
She had a family and no friends. Like me. Upon hearing this, I felt an unwelcome tenderness rush towards her.  
She is called Seras, Seras Victoria.  
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She is sweet and adorably shy. I can tell from the way she stayed out from everybody’s way that she does know where she stood, and does not want her presence to cause any fuss or inconvenience. Try as I might, I can’t find it in myself to hate her; that girl who is his child and technically his bride. Walter had given her one of the rooms in the mansion’s sublevels, she and Alucard, being the only creatures that dwell in that part of the house.  
I will not flatter myself into thinking that Alucard won’t touch a strand of her hair just for the sake of my feelings and I can’t blame her in case Alucard does betray me with her; she is after all, his in every sense of word.  
And I can’t blame him, if he does take her.  
All I want is for him to keep whatever he plans to do with her down and out of sight.  
Out of my sight, precisely.  
I drank the dregs of my tea in a single gulp and looked at the clock: four thirty-six PM. No time to waste mulling over him and her, they’ll be up soon a couple of hours from; better snap out of this before any one of them catch a thread of my thoughts.  
I need to go to the forensics team and see this chip they’re talking about. If what they say is true, then it explains the sudden spike in vampiric activity.


End file.
